


Absolutely Abysmal

by LucindaRemyJohnson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, Romance, Smut, War, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucindaRemyJohnson/pseuds/LucindaRemyJohnson
Summary: Out of all the things Draco Malfoy is not good enough at, despising her is at the top of the list.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 249





	Absolutely Abysmal

Draco Malfoy is used to hearing that nothing he does is ever good enough.

His robes never pressed enough. His hair never perfectly styled. His spells never precise to a T. His potions never the _exact_ shade they should be. His Unforgiveables far too weak. His attempts at fulfilling Voldemort's orders _laughable._

And his duty to hate the mudblood currently beneath him? _Absolutely abysmal._

Out of all the things Draco Malfoy is not good enough at, despising her is at the top of the list.

He can't seem to twist his mouth to form the word that tastes like vinegar on his tongue. Can't seem to feel above her in any way, because she is beautiful and pure and _so good -_ and he is certainly not. The inky swirl of dark magic on his arm is proof enough of that.

_"Please,"_

Her hushed plea breaks the ever present stream of his thoughts, anchoring him so fully in the moment that he feels he might combust at the sheer energy that vibrates all around her. Engulfs her. _Is_ her.

She's beautiful.

Glowing.

A goddess.

His feathered kisses are soft, reverent. He's kissing every freckle, every scar, every inch of her skin in penance he doesn't deserve. Fingers trailing across pale skin, hushed breaths against warm flesh - it's all an apology.

A plea for forgiveness that doesn't leave his mouth.

The words he wants to scream at the top of his lungs for everyone to hear.

For _her_ to hear.

Her fingers are delicate - as they often are - as she slips each of his buttons loose from their holes, softly brushing his shirt from his shoulders to fall from the bed, forgotten.

_"You're so fucking beautiful."_

His words are whispered against the soft skin of her neck, the raw emotion he doesn't bother to hide tickling her skin as she tangles her hands in his hair.

He'll only ever let _her_ see him like this.

It's only _ever_ been her.

His mouth leaves a scorching trail down her neck, teeth scraping against her collar bone before closing around her left nipple. Her soft gasp is music to his ears, the hand that's not supporting his weight is paying her neglected bud the same attention, talented fingers rubbing and pinching.

She can't help but arch into his touch.

_"Malfoy,"_

The fingers in his hair tighten as teeth scrape over sensitive skin, breath catches in her throat as she gives herself over to him completely - just like she does every time.

_"I was so fucking worried about you."_

He's not looking at her as he says the words, instead kissing his way down the taught muscles in her stomach, slipping between her thighs.

She leans up on her elbows to trail her fingers over his cheek, making sure he's looking at her before she speaks.

_"I told you, I'll always come back."_

He only closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, but she knows what she sees - the tension visibly uncoiling from his shoulders, relief spreading through his body as he finally realizes that she's there and she's safe and she's still exactly the same as when he saw her last.

He's pressing loving kisses to her inner thigh, his lips lightly ghosting where she wants him most before continuing along the opposite leg.

She wants his wicked tongue.

She's well acquainted with it by now - the way he somehow _always_ manages to tease her near insanity with it.

When his tongue finally strokes over her clit she moans, back arching from the bed as she pants one word -

_"Malfoy,"_

Gods, what he won't do to hear her say his name like that _every fucking day_.

His tongue strokes her lazily, grey eyes burning into her as she watches him. She loves it - and she knows he loves it too. He's told her on more than one occasion that there's nothing better than watching her shatter for him.

He traces her clit with his tongue, swirling small figure-eight patterns as her fingers twist in his hair - and _fuck_ , he thinks that maybe he loves her.

The thought comes, rushed and unbidden, tearing a growl from his throat as he sucks her clit into his mouth, the pressure _utterly delicious._

A breathless curse leaves her lips as her breathing comes in gasps, legs shaking as he plays her body so perfectly - just as he does every time.

His hands are gripping her thighs, forcing her to take all the pleasure he wants to give her. Forcing her to forget everything and just _feel_.

The fiery sparks that race up her spine and unfurl through her veins steal her breath, the words she so desperately wants to release catch in her throat and all she can do is chant his name like a prayer as he guides her through it.

He knows he's absolutely abysmal at hating her, because he loves her.

He trails his lips back up her body, each freckle and scar receives a kiss before he finally claims her lips.

_"Please, Malfoy."_

Her breathy pant is enough for him to push into her, relishing at how hot, how wet, how _tight_ -

_"Fuck,"_

She chokes on a moan. Her nails dig into his back as she buries her face in his neck, and _she loves this so much_.

She can't stop her fingers from wandering, exploring every inch of his skin as he slowly moves above her.

And of course it doesn't take long for them to find their rhythm, her hips meeting his on every thrust.

_"Please don't stop,"_

He groans, one hand squeezing her thigh, while the other supports him by her head as he simply breathes one word,

_"Never,"_

His lips are on hers again, and she knows that when he growls her _given_ name, she's lost, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulls him impossibly closer.

Her muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut before she shatters, thighs clamping around his waist as he fucks her through it.

And she finds everything _so fucking intense_. She can't think straight, her body shaking against his and he doesn't let up.

_"Promise me you'll be safe tomorrow."_

Her words are more like broken glass, but he understands her just the same, dropping his forehead to rest against hers, hips grinding against her own as he continues his slow, purposeful thrusts.

_"I'll always come back too."_

She bites back a sob and pulls him closer, his weight now resting on both forearms as he tangles his hands into her hair.

The delicious push and pull of his body is maddening, and he thinks she's the most beautiful witch he's ever lain eyes on.

And he really, _really_ needs her to survive.

He's willing to be absolutely abysmal at everything _they_ ever wanted him to be good at if it means he can be with her.

If it means he can be happy.

He holds her close, breathing her in as he brings them both higher and higher and _higher_.

_"Draco!"_

That's how he knows she's coming - the sharp gasp of his name as it tumbles past her lips.

And as her cunt clenches around him, he doesn't stand a chance.

She utterly _wrecks him_.

He buries his face into her curls, gasping out her name as he spills himself inside her.

The moments that follow are quiet, the only sound their labored breathing as they try to calm their racing hearts.

He doesn't pull out of her yet, enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed together, not an inch of skin separating them as he inhales lungfuls of her so that maybe this time he won't forget the way she smells.

The way she feels.

The way she holds him.

The way her eyes sparkle just a bit brighter when he's the one looking at her.

_"I wish you didn't have to go."_

Her words aren't more than a whispered breath, her arms still firmly wrapped around his neck, mouth lightly kissing any exposed skin he can reach.

_"Me too."_

His words are equally soft, a sigh against her lips as he leans up just enough to kiss her.

Her cheeks are wet.

His might be too, just a bit.

He presses his forehead against hers, grey eyes holding amber, and he knows he's going to say the words. Knows they're going to tumble from his lips any second and he doesn't even have the time to be terrified.

_"I love you so fucking much."_

She chokes on a sob, her fingers digging into him as she feels herself breaking apart, the pieces shifting and coming back together new. Different.

And his heart is in his throat, all too aware of the levity of the situation. Of what he's just said.

But a moment later he hears her - and _fuck_ , he swears to be absolutely abysmal at _everything_ except making her happy. Keeping her safe.

Loving her with everything in him.

_"I love you too, so so much."_

He catches her lips in another kiss, slow and soft and _perfect_.

The words don't fix anything. They don't change anything.

Their situation is still terrifying, the future ridiculously unsure, but it's better than abysmal.

And for that, he's thankful.


End file.
